


having such a good time, having a ball

by deerie



Series: where the heart is [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Domestic, F/M, Footnotes, Godparents Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 15:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerie/pseuds/deerie
Summary: The invitation came to them in their cottage in South Downs, addressed to Mr. & Mr. Crowley-Fell. Crowley, for a long moment, thought it to be some sort of prank from the demons downstairs, who were still understandably miffed about the whole “averting the apocalypse” thing.





	having such a good time, having a ball

**Author's Note:**

> 6/17, but slightly later: Now that my eyes are bleeding and I can no longer discern words, the footnotes should be working!  
> 6/17: The footnotes do not actually work at the present moment. Bare with me.

The invitation came to them in their cottage in South Downs, addressed to Mr. & Mr. Crowley-Fell. Crowley, for a long moment, thought it to be some sort of prank from the demons downstairs, who were still understandably miffed about the whole “averting the apocalypse” thing.

It had been almost a year, though. Wasn’t it time to move on?

He had half a mind to incinerate the whole envelope, contents be damned, when Aziraphale, who had come with him to the mailbox, plucked it from his hands.

“Would you look at this?” Aziraphale exclaimed, opening the envelope. “We’re being invited to Adam’s birthday party. Oh, we must go, Crowley.”

Crowley peered over Aziraphale’s shoulder at the unassuming blue invitation with Adam Young’s name printed across the top in chunky letters:

ADAM YOUNG  
INVITES YOU TO HIS  
TWELFTH BIRTHDAY

Underneath that, scrawled in the messy handwriting befitting a boy like Adam, reads: _You_ _have_ _to_ _come!! - Adam_

Hm, he supposed, it really had been a year. It was amazing how time both flew and crawled at an infinitely slow pace.

“S’not really my scene,” Crowley said.

“You’ve done it before,” Aziraphale said primly, “for children far less important than Adam.”[[1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note1)]

Crowley equivocated for a moment, for appearance’s sake, before he crumbled. He set his pointy chin down on Aziraphale’s shoulder and said, “If it’s what you want.”

“It is,” Aziraphale agreed. “It is what I want and it’s what you want whether or not you care to admit it.”

He patted Crowley’s face gently with the invitation. “Let’s go inside now, dear boy. The tea is waiting and it’s no use trying to warm it up once it’s gone cold.”

 

Crowley has found himself in attendance at more children's birthday parties than he'd care to admit. This comes, of course, as part and parcel[[2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note2)] of being an unwitting godparent to the former Antichrist. Still, Crowley maintains, it is a peculiar feeling to have lived millennia, seen and participated in the rise and fall of empires, and still find oneself sitting beneath a shady tent with a party hat on one’s head.

Mrs. Young cuts the cake and hands it out to the children and other guests.

Aziraphale, of course, is as pleased as punch to be here. His party hat sits at a jaunty angle, just like the smile across his face. He has a plate of birthday cake in his hands.

Mr. Young had given the pair a perfunctory onceover upon their arrival  -- obviously recognizing them from the minor spat of trouble he believed Adam to have gotten into exactly one year ago -- and said, “Adam tells me you’re his godparents. I think usually the parents are supposed to assign that, but I guess you’ll do.”

Aziraphale had tittered excitedly. Crowley had raised his eyebrows over his sunglasses and then dipped his head in assent.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale says, “this cake is delightful. Won’t you have some?”

He holds out his fork, on which sits a bite of cake[[3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note3)], and waves it enticingly. Crowley grimaces but leans forward all the same.

At first, all Crowley can taste is the sweetness of the cake, but soon that gives way to the rich chocolate flavor of the moist cake. He hums under his breath. Aziraphale takes it as approval.

“Now, I’m not sharing any more with you. You’ll have to get your own slice.”[[4](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note4)]

Anathema slides into his seat before he can make it back. He glowers at her, but her belly is rounded and he’s always, dreadfully, had a soft spot for those with child.

He thinks idly of apples and then shakes his head to dispel the thought. “Where’s Newton?”

“He’s playing with the children[[5](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note5)],” she says as she fans herself. “Can I have a bite of that?”

Crowley simpers at Aziraphale, who only frowns a little,  and says, “Of course, darling.”

He thrusts the plate at Anathema, happy to let her thwart Aziraphale on her own.

She balances the plate precariously on the top of her stomach and sighs in happiness as she takes a bite. “Oh, this is lovely,” she says.

“You can taste the love,” Aziraphale whispers to her conspiratorially, “right down to the hundreds and thousands.”

Anathema smiles at him brightly. Newt shrieks in the distance. Dog barks excitedly.

Mrs. Young pauses in her cake-cutting and says, “Do you think he’s alright?”

Anathema waves a hand in the air. “Newt’s fine. If he can handle them, we’ll be fine.”

“I can’t tell you how excited Adam is that you’re having a baby,” Mrs. Young says. “It’s all he seems to talk about these days.”

“Well, if the baby[[6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note6)] turns out to be half as good a person as Adam is, then we’ll be happy,” Anathema says, winking at Aziraphale and Crowley.

Crowley saunters over and, devoid of a place to sit, leans his hip against the back of Aziraphale’s plastic chair. Even standing up, he seems to sprawl, taking up more real estate[[7](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note7)] that his thin body would suggest.

“Will you be spending more time in Tadfield?” Mrs. Young inquires. “It’s just that Adam talks a lot about you two as well and it would be nice if he could see his godparents more often.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale says, dipping his head into a nod. “It’s been a bit of a process moving into our home in South Downs, but I think everything has finally settled. I daresay family[[8](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note8)] has been a bit scant on our side as of late, so it would be nice to broaden our horizons.”

Mrs. Young smiles warmly. “Well, you’re always welcome here, my dear.”

The Them crash into Newt in a rush of limbs and laughter. Dog barks at the pile of people and Newt untangles an arm just enough to wave and yell, “I’m okay!”

Mr. Young watches with a faint smile on his face and then he claps his hands together and says, “Right, well, I think it’s time for presents. Adam, come on!”

Adam shoots up almost immediately. He isn’t sure anything can top last year’s birthday present; he’s aware now, of course, that his story started nearly 6,000 years ago, but he can’t help but think that maybe his story started actually with a dog on his eleventh birthday.

All good stories start with a boy and his dog.[[9](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note9)]

Maybe, he thinks, the story started 6,000[[10](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note10)] years ago, but the beginning was a slow read, like his school books. Now he’s getting to the good bits, like one of Anathema’s magazines.[[11](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note11)]

So Adam doesn’t think that anything can top Dog, but he’s willing to give it a shot.

The Them follow next, with Brian and Wensley pulling Newton to his feet.

“Good game, then?” Newton asks.

Pepper pats him on the elbow. “Yes. Now, come on, we don’t want to miss presents.”

Everyone gathers around the table stood in the middle of the garden under the shady tent. An assortment of presents and gifts sit on top. Adam takes his seat at the head of the table. The first few gifts go the usual route: clothes, to replace the ones he’s outgrown; a few books and movies; dog toys, for Dog.

“Thanks, Mum and Dad,” Adam says dutifully, the hint of a grin on his face.

Anathema pushes their present next. “Open ours next,” she urges.

Adam agrees, if the flying wrapping paper is anything to go by. “Oh, cool!”

Anathema and Newton have given him a proper detective’s kit.

He holds the magnifying glass up to his face and says, “I bet we can find loads of witches with this!”[[12](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note12)]

“We can play Sherlock Holmes,” Wensleydale says reverently.

“I get to be Watson,” Pepper says decisively. “Brian can be Lestrade.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Newton says. He sneaks a smile back at Anathema.

“Thank you,” Adam says seriously after a bit of a nudge from his mum.

Adam moves on to Crowley and Aziraphale’s presents next. There’s a sort of lumpy package wrapped up in birthday paper and a very cylindrical present to match.

“It’s kind of a joint present,” Aziraphale offers. “Open that one first.”

The very round present gives way to a plant. Adam eyes it and then eyes Crowley.

“It’s a _sssss_ snake plant,” Crowley says, with the faintest hint of a hiss. “One of my best. Just give it a good telling off and it should keep growing.”

“I’m not sure I want to be yelling at anything, even if it is a plant,” Adam says carefully.

“Yes, I thought you’d say that,” Crowley grumbles. “Open the next.”

In the next gift is a book on plant care. Beneath _that_ , is a book on conspiracy theories and a black jean jacket.

“Wicked[[13](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note13)],’’ Adam breathes, holding up the jean jacket. “Thank you so much! These are brilliant.”

Aziraphale preens. “Well, it is so hard to know what to buy for the young people these days.”

Crowley jostles his chair a bit and smirks down at Aziraphale.

Adam goes through the rest of his presents in short order, oohing and ahhing at the appropriate places. He thanks his friends for their gifts and then says, “You’re all staying for dinner, right?”

Mr. and Mrs. Young look at each other in surprise, for neither had planned a dinner for an extra four children and four adults, but Mrs. Young capitulates with a soft smile, “Oh, yes, that would be fantastic. Why don’t you run along with your friends and ask their parents if they can stay for tea.”

“I can help cook,” Newton offers. “I think we have some sausages back at the cottage. I’ll just nip round and get them. Do you need anything, Anathema?”

“Maybe just the pillow[[14](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note14)],” she says, curving her finger around in the air like a ‘C’.

He smacks a kiss to the top of her head and hurries off in the correct direction.

“You know what?” Crowley asks Aziraphale. “I think we have a bottle of whiskey left in the Bentley that would be perfect for the occasion.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale says excitedly. “The Jack Daniels, of course!”

Mr. Young suddenly looks very interested in the proceedings. “Jack Daniels, did you say?”

“Truly, one of the only good things to come out of America,” Crowley says. “I’ll go get it.”

“I’ll come with you,” Aziraphale says, standing up. A few chocolate crumbs fall from his lap. He brushes them off quickly.

The trip around to the front of the house is quick, but Crowley and Aziraphale take their time and linger near the Bentley.

“This has been fun, hasn’t it?” Aziraphale asks, leaning into Crowley’s side.

“Who would have thunk it,” Crowley replies, not quite a question nor requiring an answer. His arm comes up to slip about Aziraphale’s waist.

Aziraphale curls into his side lightly, temple brushing up against a sharp cheekbone. His hand finds its home grasping the side of Crowley’s shirt. Crowley presses a kiss to the side of his forehead.

“To many more birthdays,” Aziraphale breathes.

“To many, many more birthdays,” Crowley agrees. Then, he frowns, “Do you think we'll have to go to all of them?”[[15](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#note15)]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1 This isn’t to say that all children aren’t important; they are. However, in this birthday party scenario, the child was Warlock Dowling, who as it turned out was not the Antichrist but just a normal, if horribly-behaved, boy. Mistakes had been made, Crowley maintains, on both sides.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return1)]  
2 Part and parcel has been used in some capacity over the years as both a legal term and an idiom. Here, we refer to the legal term from the 15th century, wherein “part” refers to a portion and “parcel” refers to something that is integral to the whole. This is why Crowley cannot miss this birthday party, even if he desperately, _desperately_ wishes to do so.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return2)]  
3 The cake in question is Devil’s food cake, a joke that is lost on neither Aziraphale nor Crowley. The rainbow sprinkles decorating the top, however, are a welcome surprise.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return3)]  
4Crowley rightly interprets this as: “Go get another slice of cake so I may eat that one too.” He even thanks Mrs. Young nicely for the piece, but only because he can feel Aziraphale staring sternly at his back.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return4)]  
5 _Playing with the children_ is a bit of a misnomer. Adam had mentioned witches, given that they were a popular topic among the Them. Pepper had mentioned something along the lines of “an eye of newt,” and four sets of eyes eerily turned as one on Newton. Newton beat a hasty retreat as Brian yelled, “Get him!” Wensley trailed after them at a slower pace and said, “Actually, ‘eye of newt’ refers to the mustard seed,” before he too gave in to the chase.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return5)]  
6 Anathema and Newton give their baby the name Poppy, which is perfectly reasonable and has nothing to do with descendancy. Every so often, Anathema wonders if Agnes Nutter predicted this too, but she is quite content with the knowledge that “Ye Saga Continueth” had gone up in flames before Poppy was conceived.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return6)]  
7 Aziraphale never complains, not now anyway. He thinks that Crowley may take up as much space as he wants; Aziraphale knows that he will always have a home in Crowley.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return7)]  
8 This is not strictly true, although Mrs. Young does not need to know that the extent of Aziraphale and Crowley’s dealings with their appropriate former sides has been in the form of an increase in angelic surveillance and the demonic equivalent of a prank war, which includes such gems as “stealing the mail” and “spoiling the milk.” Neither Gabriel nor Beelzebub know what to do with either Aziraphale or Crowley now that they are their own side.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return8)]  
9 God, of course, loves the stories where the dog lives best. This fact, it would seem, is as ineffable as Her own plans.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return9)]  
106,000 years is an exact measurement. This is the exact amount of time it takes for God to draw a breath and turn the page. In the interim, a snake tempts a woman with an apple and an angel gives her a flaming sword. And, well, you know how the rest of the story goes.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return10)]  
11 If God were the sort of being to have regrets, it would be that She didn’t start the story sooner. There are few things as satisfying as a boy and his dog.  [ [return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return11)]  
12 Anathema is not worried about what they will do once they find said witches. In fact, it could be said that they found her first and all that has gotten her is a family expanded and the nicest chocolate cake she’s ever eaten.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return12)]  
13The joke, once again, is lost on neither Crowley nor Aziraphale. [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return13)]  
14The Boppy pillow is, strictly, a pillow for nursing babies. Anathema, like many other mothers-to-be, has found that it is quite the right shape for supporting the bottom of her stomach. She thinks that this is one of humankind’s best inventions.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return14)]  
15The answer is, of course, yes. They have to go to many more birthdays for many more people.  [[return to text](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253932#return15)]

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, I hadn't seen [that picture of David Tennant wtih his head on Martin Sheen's shoulder](https://twitter.com/wtmjules/status/1138898142970073088) until after I wrote this fic. I'm an authorial psychic, obviously. 
> 
> These footnotes were a pain and a half to put in here. I may never do it again. I offer no apologies for the amount of footnotes included, either. 
> 
> Follow me [@afuturetime](http://www.twitter.com/afuturetime)!


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